Tricks of the Mind
by Aerilon452
Summary: Abbie is still trapped in Purgatory where the realm starts to play tricks on her as she waits for Ichabod to come back for her. ONE SHOT. COMPLETE


Summary: Abbie is still stuck in Purgatory where her mind plays tricks on her.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of SLEEPY HOLLOW

Rating: T+

Pairing: Abbie and Ichabod

**TRICKS OF THE MIND:**

The last thing Abbie remembered was running through Purgatory with Moloch pursuing her. Abbie woke up, safe in bed, wrapped in covers. She breathed in an out rapidly trying to relax. Next to her arm wrapped around her, lips touched the edge of her ear whispering soothing woods. Abbie reacted, pushing at the male body next to her. When she could focus she saw Ichabod. "Crane?" She said is last name with pure disbelief. They were in a large bed, he had no shirt on, she was dressed in pajamas, and it was night out. "What the hell?"

"You had another nightmare." Ichabod whispered slowing pulling Abbie close. "For five years since your escape from Purgatory, you've been reliving moments of your torment. Moloch's way of reminding us that our time quickly running out." He rested his cheek atop her head while he held her close. "It will be alright." Slowly he rocked back and forth with her, knowing that it would help to banish the remnants of the nightmare and help her to remember her life. Ichabod just had to remind himself to take things slow, let her come back into her memories on her own while reminding her what happened.

"What happened with Katrina?" Abbie asked pulling back, scrambling out of the bed. She needed to stand. She needed to shake off the ill feeling swimming through her. Something about this was wrong. "The last thing I remember is seeing you and Katrina leaving while I stayed behind to face down Moloch." Even as Abbie spoke, she had the desire to be back in bed, sitting next to Ichabod, letting him hold her. There was a warmth in his touch that she had only ever experienced twice before. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she fought to distract herself from going back to him. "Did you stop the second horseman?"

Ichabod climbed out from under the covers and walked around the bed to stand in front of Abbie. "Katrina and I bound War to his grave so he will never rise to plague the mortal world." He took in a deep breath and released it slowly. "We returned so that Katrina could free you, but the price was unanticipated." Knowing that she needed the comfort of his touch as much as he, Ichabod once again took her in his arms, her head resting against his chest. "She can never be free from her eternal torment." Before he continued, he kissed the top of her head, and he felt Abbie go rigid in his arms. This was where he should pull back, to let her grow accustomed to this. When dawns light bathed the Earth she would have her memories restored. Ichabod just had to be patient until then. "Even as you remained in her stead, Katrina was never meant to be free despite being promised to Death."

Abbie tried to remember what he was telling her, but she couldn't. She was trying to focus on the bond between them that would help her survive Purgatory; nothing happened. There were no memories of Ichabod to help guide her. "I'm sorry." Abbie whispered past the small knot of guilt in the pit of her stomach that resembled relief. "What happened after?" She had to know and he had to tell her. There was too much of a gap between then and now, a five year gap that she was trying to recall. "You have to tell me." Abbie took on step closer to Ichabod, drawn to him. She took another step. And another. Then, she reached out and wrapped her arms around his naked torso. "I can't believe I don't remember."

This was different. Ichabod was not expecting her to embrace him so soon upon waking, but he was pleased. Ichabod returned her embrace with a smile gracing his lips. "It is yet another parting gift from Moloch. When you dream of Purgatory, you will lose your memory of the last five years and it will remain gone until the first light of dawn."

"I really hate that demon." Abbie grumbled, holding Ichabod tighter. "This is maddening and I can only imagine how hard this is for you." Abbie moved back so she could see his face. His features were relaxed and he was wearing one of his small light smiles. "How can you be here with me when…. When Katrina is…" He stopped her words with his hand covering her mouth. Abbie was confused for a moment, then fell further into it when Ichabod took her hand and pulled her back to the bed. As far as her memory was concerned he was still married, albeit to the ghost of a woman he once knew, but he was a married man. "Crane….?" She drew out his last name as a question.

Now came the part of his tale that he hated the most. "Two years ago I returned to Purgatory," Ichabod sat on the edge of the bed pulling Abbie between his parted knees so that he may continue to revel in the feel of her touch with his hands upon her hips. "Where upon Katrina and I released each other from our vows of marriage seeing as she could never be free and I was not yet meant to fall until Moloch was defeated." Ichabod sighed, "When I am to die, I will pass on, and not be reunited with Katrina." He said drawing his arms once more around her and resting his head on her torso. She hesitated a fraction of a second before her arms embraced him as well, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Abbie tried to think past all the conflicting emotions swirling inside of her from the feeling of being held by Crane. He hold was gentle, yet strong; it was intimate and personal. Pulling back, but not stepping away, she sat next to Ichabod. "What is going on?" Knowing that it was ok, she reached her hand up and cupped his face, the bristles of his beard prickling her palm. Touching her hand to his face was so strange and yet so familiar at the same time. She knew she had the freedom to caress his cheek. "Why is this so familiar?" Abbie asked.

"For the last year, you and I are only ever able to seek comfort, companionship, from one another." Ichabod answered turning his face in against the palm of her hand, laying a gentle kiss to her warm skin. "There is ever only peace for me in the gentle touch of your hand." Slowly, as not to spook her, he turned into her using his body to push her down into the bed. This time she didn't spurn his advances. "For moments at a time," Ichabod whispered, placing alight kiss to her jaw, lingering for a second. "I can forget that you and I are called to bear Witness."

Abbie gazed up at Ichabod as he rested over her, "You make me feel like that too." She responded bringing her hands up, placing them on his chest. "When I'm with you, everything seems possible." Arching her back, she placed her lips to his as she continued, "When I'm with you things don't seem as bad." Ichabod put more pressure into the kiss, and she welcomed it. She enjoyed the feel of him against her, the way his lips glided over hers guiding her in the rising passions of a kiss. Abbie brought her hands up to his side, sliding them over his ribs, and to his back where she dug her fingers in feeling his muscles. Ichabod deepened the kiss, his tongue slipping between her lips. She moaned, her body warming to him, and letting him set the pace. Abbie focused entirely on the way Ichabod kissed her, the way he rocked against her.

Ichabod took charge of the kiss, deepening it slowly; letting her get accustomed to the taste of him, the feel of him over her. Like he had many time before, he rolled them so he was on his back and Abbie was the one in the dominant position. She would need to feel in control. He needed to give that to her. Sitting up, Ichabod rested his hands on her thighs. Her nails scratched his back, light enough not to draw blood, before she once more placed her hands on his chest, but unlike the last time, the tip of her right index finger traced the scar given to him by the horseman of Death. He hated this scar, yet, she made it apart of him whenever her lips touched the damaged flesh. "We will take this as slow as you wish." Ichabod said. Abbie smiled at him.

"Show me how you love," Abbie rested her hand over his heart feeling it beat. His heart should have stopped over two hundred years ago, and yet here he was with her. Ichabod gave her another of his curious look as he smiled at her with the hint of devilish intent. He then held her close as he stood up from the edge of the bed. They didn't go far as Ichabod set her down on the mattress but he didn't join her. She held his gaze, sensing him sitting on the bed by her ankles. Abbie continued to watch him, continued to be held in thrall as Ichabod touched his lips to the center of her left shin. The bristles of his well-kept beard scraped along her skin in a sensual way the further he moved up her body. Again, Abbie moaned.

Ichabod darted the tip of his tongue out, tasted Abbie's soft skin. She reminded him of hot summer nights, fresh rain, and the silvery veil of moonlight. He moved further up and over her knee. He kissed the top of her knee before he paused. Rolling his gaze up the line of her body, he saw her avidly watching him with passion's fire dancing in her dark eyes. Then he resumed his trek up her body. More kisses brought him up to her quivering abdomen. With certainty, he pushed the whisper thin fabric up exposing her stomach. Above her navel, he placed his lips to her skin to savor her warmth and to feel every inhalation of breath she took. Further up he moved placing a kiss to her heart, his tongue running along her collar bone, and then his lips sought kiss her thundering pressure point.

'_You didn't ask for my permission when you decided to end your life!'_ Abbie remembered yelling at Ichabod in Purgatory, remembered him pulling her close, pulling her into a hug where his left hand cupped the back of her head. She pulled back gaining a look of confusion from him. Ichabod sat at her side, pulling away from where he had been lavishing attention upon her skin. "Give me a few minutes." Abbie moved out from under Ichabod and fled from the room.

In the next moment she was back in the forests of Purgatory in the clothes she had been in when she and Crane crossed over. "What the hell?" The lost souls trapped between the worlds suffered in their own private hell. Abbie was starting to question what was real and what was made up. She wasn't sure how many hours had slipped by since Crane and his wife had left. Abbie scrubbed her hands over her face, feeling someone behind her. She turned to see a woman in revolutionary war era clothing, a black woman, staring at her; a gentle smile upon her face.

"That's what Purgatory does." Grace had seen the young woman wandering around, and knew her on sight. The young woman was her descendant. "It shows you what's buried deep in the darkness of your mind."

"So…" Abbie looked around, "That wasn't real?" She asked feeling instantly better, and yet at the same time, she felt saddened for some reason she couldn't name. Putting that out of her mind, she took a closer look at the woman before you, "You look familiar." She said taking a step closer. "Grace," The name slipped from Abbie's lips in a whisper.

"It's wonderful to see that my bloodline has survived." Grace stretched out her arms, the tips of her fingers barely touching Abbie's face. "How did you come to be in this place?" She asked dropping her arms seeing her descendant uneasy in front of her.

"I'm here until Katrina Crane can return." Abbie answered making sure to keep her eyes out for Moloch. When she had come across the dollhouse, he left her alone. But now that she was back out in the open, she had to keep her eyes open for him. "They are at this moment making sure War remains in his grave."

"Then you must keep your wits about you." Grace counseled. "Purgatory will seek to trap you with what you desire most."

"That's a long list," Abbie remarked sarcastically with an added eye roll for emphasis. She was covering up the fact that she had been trapped in an illusion where she was in bed with Crane, a married man. He was very married man and happily so. How could she want to have that sort of intimate relationship with him? "Come on Crane," Abbie whispered. She was ready to be released from Purgatory. She wanted to go home. She wanted a hot shower. Most of, she wanted to sleep in her own bed. But first, Crane had to come and get her. He promised. That's what she had to cling to; his promise. "Come on Crane…" She repeated scanning the trees for signs of Moloch.

Back in the mortal world Ichabod struggled to breathe confined in the pine box that had been his son's coffin. His chest was heavy and his heart despaired. This couldn't be the end. He hadn't survived the war, countless missions from General Washington, and he had braved the modern era to be buried alive. Just as Ichabod forced his eyes to open he felt the ground shifting around him. Magic was being used. In the blink of an eye the dirt covering him was removed, the lid to the coffin being yanked off and fresh air filling the space around him. Blinking rapidly from the glare of the sun, Ichabod looked up to see Katrina. The thorn covered vines holding him in place slackened allowing him to rise, allowing to escape his son's resting place. He breathed in, trying to calm his heart as the woman he loved stood before him. "Katrina…."

"Ichabod," Katrina began even as he heart was breaking. "We must return to Purgatory to free Ms. Mills." She didn't want to leave, but she knew her place was in the realm between the worlds. It was her punishment. Katrina gazed into the eyes of her beloved husband knowing that her words were dealing him a tremendous amount of pain. "We had our time together." She stepped to him, her hands resting over his chest. "But now that time has come to an end. I will never be free and now I am resigned to that fate knowing that you yet live to save the world. You're fate now lies with Ms. Mills." She backed away, turning before he could see her tears, and set off to where they would open the door and bring Abbie home.

Ichabod stood frozen to the spot having the wind taken from him. Katrina was letting him go, releasing him to live in this new world without her. He should be angry, he should be arguing with her, demanding that she hope for another way, another chance at freedom. Yet, as he stood there, his eyes upon the empty grave that had claimed him, Ichabod could only think about Abbie. He had fought with her when she decided to remain in Purgatory, forcefully saying that her staying was not an option. His crusade to free Katrina was a matter of honor and duty. She was his wife, he loved her, and she was his life. Abbie had stayed behind to face down the demon Moloch. "Abbie…" He breathed out her name letting it be carried away on the light breeze whispering through the forest. His promise to return for her was about to be upheld. Before Katrina noticed he was not following he hurried to catch up to her.

Katrina knew that Ichabod hadn't started to follow her and she was glad of it. It gave her time to fight her tears, to keep them from falling. Long ago she had to give up her soon after losing her husband, and now she had lost them both again. Katrina sensed this day was always coming; the day when Ichabod would be called to bear witness, to the day when he would have to fight against Moloch. She always knew that she would not give aide in his new life. Fresh tears sprang to her eyes as she heard Ichabod rushing to catch up with her. This life, however unforgiving it had become, had allowed her to love Ichabod for as long as she had been able. Now because of that love, Katrina had to let Ichabod go. He couldn't fully fight Moloch if his attention was focused on freeing her from Purgatory. Her time in this mortal world was over and there was no place for her. She had to accept that.

Ichabod walked with Katrina in silence not trusting his voice as he knew not the words that would fall from between his lips. This moment should be the happiest of his life. He was reunited with Katrina, the love of his life. Yet, as he walked with her, their reunion left a sour taste in his mouth. Their life wasn't supposed to be like this. The first trickle of anger filled him over the cruel twist of fate. Looking up, Ichabod saw they had reached their destination, and a small part of him was glad. Soon he would have Abbie returned to him, and then there was the part of him that still resided in the past that had to suffer his heart breaking. Again they turned to each other and recited the incantation that would open the door way between the worlds. Ichabod felt sick with the mixture of relief and guilt plaguing him as he and Katrina stepped inside, returning to Purgatory.

Abbie had to run again, to leave the clearing and her ancestor as Moloch found her. She raced through the trees only to come to a complete stop when she felt something, a ripple through the air. It had to be magic. It had to be Crane. He finally came for her, but if he was going to find her then she needed to be out in the open. She needed to be an easy target. That thought didn't sit too well with her, but she had to do it. Abbie doubled back the way she had come, back to the clearing where she had woken up the first time after resisting temptation. Lost Souls slowed her progression, but also aided in concealing her from Moloch, giving her precious seconds that she would need to find Crane; if she could find him. "Please Crane, find me." Abbie mumbled.

The return to Purgatory was different for Ichabod. This time he found himself back in the echo of the church built by Abbie's ancestors. His lips nearly formed her name, his voice nearly giving it sound. On first instinct, Ichabod nearly made a break for the doors, his intention to rush out into the eternal night to find Abbie. Ichabod turned, but Katrina had her back to him. "Katrina…"

"Go, Ichabod." Katrina had to keep her back to him lest he see her tears. "Find her and escape this place." She tried not to shake as she heard him walk up behind her. His hands fell to her waist as he placed a kiss to her shoulder. "You must leave this place." She repeated when he pulled back from her. This time, Ichabod didn't promise to find a way to free her. Katrina was heartbroken and relieved at that.

Abbie didn't know how she had found her way, but she saw the church. "Finally…" She gasped calling on the last bit of strength she had to carry her to the doors. If she could just get inside, then she could bar the door, and keep Moloch out for a little while. Abbie saw movement and froze, her hand going to her hip where her gun was holstered. The person she saw made her heart swell. "Crane!" She shouted gathering her energy to continue running, to close the gap between them. The church, she knew she had to reach the church.

"Lieutenant!" Ichabod shouted at the top of his lungs upon hearing her call out to him. He turned in the direction her voice had come from seeing her emerge from the gap in the tree line. As she ran towards him, behind her, Ichabod could see Moloch. His mind didn't have time to think, his body reacted. Ichabod set off running towards her. He had to get to her, to get her to the church and bar the gates giving them enough time to escape. Even as Katrina was back in Purgatory, she would be safe from Moloch being his prisoner in this realm. Faster, he had to run faster. The distance between them dissolved with each passing second until she was reaching out her hand to him. Ichabod took it, gripped tight, and then together they ran back to the church with the demon gaining on them.

Abbie took Crane's hand, his grip held her tightly, but not to the point of pain, and they kept running. Behind her she could hear the thunderous beats of Moloch as he pursued them. She kept going, kept running with her hand never losing its grip upon Ichabod's. The church was close, and getting closer. Abbie just had to keep running. Before she knew it, her feet were touching the wood of the steps. Ichabod let go of her hand to push the doors open. Just as she was going inside, she had barely crossed the threshold when claws dug deep in her back. "Crane!" Abbie screamed as Moloch began pulling her back, but she wouldn't let him have her. She planted her left foot behind the door and braced herself. There were precious seconds for her to do something. Abbie wasn't about to be Moloch's victim again.

Ichabod turned, wrapped his arms around her waist, and pulled her forcefully inside. With Abbie in his arms, he was staring at the face of evil, and he knew that no matter what happened he would fight to the bitter end to see Moloch forever contained, unable to enter his world. In her back pocket, he knew she kept a knife. Ichabod pulled the knife out, flipped the blade up, and jammed the steel into Moloch's arm. The demon roared in pain, releasing Abbie where she tumbled into Ichabod sending them to the floor. While Moloch was preoccupied with the knife in his arm, Ichabod scrambled to his feet, shut the door to the church, and set the beam in place to bar Moloch from entering.

Abbie got up from the floor feeling the first tendrils of pain in her back, but she wasn't going to let it get to her. She looked at Crane trying so hard not to smile, not to feel joy that he was there, that he had come back for her. Crane moved away from the door, turned to her where Abbie saw the look of profound sadness in his eyes. She knew it had to be because Katrina was once again trapped in Purgatory with no way out. Leaving him by the door, Abbie went to Katrina. It wasn't her place to promise freedom, but she was going to none the less. "There has to be a way to get you out of here, and we'll find it."

"No," Katrina gave Ms. Mills a light smile. "There is no way to free me." She lamented and then leaned closer to whisper to Abbie, "You have to make him leave me here, to focus on the war with Moloch." The words burned her throat and tore her heart to shreds, but they had to be said. "Ichabod has to leave." She placed her hands on Abbie's shoulders. "He'll listen to you, as much as he may argue, he values your opinion. Please don't let him falter in this battle with evil."

"Crane won't listen to me…." Abbie resisted the urge to look over her shoulder at him. She knew he was lingering by the door, listening for signs of Moloch trying to force his way in. "His one goal was to free you; I can't be the one to take that from him." Abbie argued. "I won't be the one to tell him to leave you here."

"I admire your conviction." Katrina said.

"Oh, it's not conviction." Abbie replied stepping back. "I refuse to be the one to deny him some tiny measure of hope."

Ichabod wanted to go to Katrina, to promise he would free her, but he stayed by the door. Outside Moloch waited, hungered for Abbie's soul. It was a soul that he was intended to deliver to the demon, but that would not come to pass. Ichabod refused to betray Abbie, to hand her over to Moloch. Making up his mind, he moved from the door to stand once more in front of Katrina, "We've lingered too long…."

"I know, Ichabod." Katrina cupped her husband's face, for what she feared, was for the last time. "Our time is over…"

"Do not…" Ichabod cleared his throat. "No goodbyes." He shook his head stilling her words knowing that his heart could not take it. With great strength Ichabod turned from Katrina, keeping his eyes focused on Abbie. It took all he had not to stop walking, to turn to Katrina. Ichabod was not about to forsake Abbie and their fate to combat evil, to defeat Moloch. Most of all he couldn't leave Abbie. He had not the strength to leave her as he was leaving Katrina.

Abbie closed the distance between them and asked, "Ready to go home?"

"More than ready," Ichabod answered. As he had done with Katrina, this time he took both of Abbie's hands and together they recited the incantation that would summon the doorway out of Purgatory.

"_We the penitent, with humble heart, upon this threshold do summon thee. In mirrored form appear, a gateway to the world between worlds._"

Before them the doorway opened once more drowning out the roars of Moloch fighting to get inside, to get to them. Abbie would have thought Ichabod would have let her hand go. Instead he held her left hand tight, as tight as he had in the woods when they had been running from Moloch, leading them to through the gateway. Ichabod needed stability, the warmth of touch, the anchor of their relationship. Abbie could sense his turmoil and she only wanted to help him, to give him what he needed. Right now, her hand in his, was what he needed. Before they crossed the threshold, Abbie looked over her shoulder at Katrina seeing the witch with her eyes closed, her cheeks damp with tears.

Ichabod refused to look behind him, to give one final look to his wife. The events of the past few days had shaken his world to the very foundation. His son was the second horseman of the apocalypse. Henry Parish was Jeremy. Ichabod wasn't sure how he would make that piece of information fit inside his mind, but he knew he needed to confide in Abbie, to tell her what he had learned. First they had to return home. Ichabod kept a tight hold on her hand when they crossed over. Once the doorway had sealed behind them time seemed to stop and then speed up flinging them through the other side with the sound of shattering glass. He lost his grip on her hand when they re-entered the mortal world. Ichabod landed on the ground, rolled, and then growled in pain when his back slammed into the base of a tree.

Abbie landed on the ground on her left side getting the wind knocked out of her. She rolled over to her back where more pain shot through her. Abbie almost forgot that she had been wounded by Moloch. "Adrenaline…." She gasped. "Nothing like it…" Forcing herself up, Abbie made it to her knees drawing in breath after breath. She looked up to see that night had fallen, the moon was full, and stars pierced the veil of dark blue sky. Steadily, Abbie got to her feet and then looked around for Crane. She spotted him over by the base of a tree, and he wasn't moving. "Ichabod!" Abbie shouted rushing to his side. She knelt down next to him, and pulled him until his back rested against her knees.

Ichabod felt the heat of Abbie seep into his bruised back. He sat up, rising to his knees, and before he thought better of it or propriety got in his way, he threw his arms around Abbie and pulled her as close as he could to his body. His hands touched her back, fingers digging into the leather of her jacket, and his face was buried in her hair. Ichabod wanted to drown out the world, all of it needed to be muted, all but the feel of Abbie. However, he would not get his wish. The sound of her gasp reached his ears. Ichabod pulled back, his hands were spotted with blood. Pushing his personal anguish aside, he stood up, helping her to her feet. "Why did you not say Moloch had injured you?" he asked.

"We had other things going on, and," Abbie shrugged, instantly regretting it. "Well, I forgot I was hurt." Until they had returned, she had truly forgotten that Moloch had gotten his claws into her in an attempt to keep her in Purgatory. The look Crane gave her said he didn't believe her. She only shook her head at him.

There were so many things Ichabod had to tell her, so many things for her to tell him, but when he opened his mouth to speak no words fell free. He was truly at a loss for words. All he knew was that joy swelled his heart at having Abbie standing in front of him. The joy in his heart battled with the agony in his soul of have to return Katrina to Purgatory. He took a deep breath and then let it out in a deep sigh. "We should leave this place…." Ichabod uttered resisting the urge to look at the space where the doorway had been. Katrina was once more held in captivity while he was free to walk the earth.

Abbie this time was the one to take Ichabod's hand. "We'll get her out of there." She said truly believing in those words if only for his sake. For all she knew, Katrina had no physical form to return to. They had seen the dead return to life before; Thomas and the colony of Roanoke sprang to mind. She didn't dare mention it though. Like she had told Katrina, Abbie wasn't going to be the one to take away Crane's hope. "You'll be…"

"Stop…" Ichabod snapped unintentionally and then saw the flash of hurt fit through her eyes. "Abbie, just…" He let his words fall away. Instead he brought her hand up and placed it over his heart. "Let us leave this place, return to the cabin, and if you would permit me, I would like to tend to your wounds." In his eyes he conveyed his need to take care of her in some small way. He needed her to see this, to understand it. Ichabod needed this.

Abbie said nothing, she couldn't really. All she did was nod her consent, and then waited for him to move. Ichabod saw the consent in her eyes. He took in one more shaky breath before, with his hand still in hers, led her out of the forest and back to where her Jeep waited. To Abbie, it was hard to believe that the whole day had slipped by while she had been in Purgatory. It felt longer to her. Then again, she surmised that time flowed differently in the Hell realm.

**THE CABIN:**

Ichabod sat on the couch after they had obtained the needed supplies for him to tend to Abbie's wounds. She sat in front of him, trusting herself to his care. He saw the slash marks to the back of her tan leather jacket as he pulled it down her arms. The back of her shirt was shredded, though compared to her jacket; her shirt had fared far better. Abbie didn't flinch when he grasped the hem of her ruined shirt so he could remove it from her body. Both articles of clothing would be bound for the rubbish bin. Ichabod encountered yet another layer of clothing with thin straps. Placing hands on her shoulders, he curled his fingers under the straps, and slid them down. Abbie reacted then, she pulled her arms out of the straps while keeping her back to him.

Abbie tried to focus on her breathing; in and out, in and out. Ichabod removed her jacket, pulled her shirt up and off of her, and then he slowly slipped the straps of her camisole and bra down her shoulders. He could only move them so far before she had to pull them the rest of the way off while still being modestly dressed so as not to offend his sense of modesty. The more time that past, the more she was starting to feel the wound inflicted upon her by Moloch. Before coming back to the cabin, they had stopped at the drug store to pick up first aid supplies. They had gotten bandages, tape, hydrogen peroxide to clean the wound, antibiotic ointment, and because she hated needles, Abbie had bought butterfly strips in case they were needed. As of yet, they hadn't spoken to each other, not even when they had been in the pharmacy. In truth, Abbie didn't know what to say to him.

Ichabod focused on tending to her wounds. Once they were cleaned and bound, then he was resolved to tell her all that had transpired since he left her in Purgatory. Grabbing the dark brown bottle, he twisted the seal on the cap and then set it on the table. Then he picked up the already opened gauze to set to the task of cleaning the wounds on Abbie's back. The moment he touched the wet gauze to the nearest wound two things happened, Abbie hissed in pain, and the wound began to bubble. "Lieutenant…?"

Abbie responded through gritted teeth, "It's supposed to do that." She dug her nails into her palms of her hands. Looking over her shoulder at him, she added, "I'll be fine." Ichabod seemed to take her word for it. When she looked away from him, she felt him move his hand to her back again, and then the cold stinging of the peroxide cleaned out the claw marks. He was as gentle as he could be while he tended her wounds. Abbie bit her bottom lip when he pressed a little too hard. She wouldn't let him know that this was hurting her, not when he needed some small measure of control in a world that was spinning too fast for him.

Ichabod knew that Abbie was in distress from his medical attention. He also knew that she wasn't going to say anything to him. This both pleased and troubled him. He wanted to know when she was feeling discomfort, but at the same time she trusted him to take care of her. As gently as he could, he cleaned out the jagged slashes making note that they would only need minor bandaging. The leather of her coat, and the shirt, had taken most of the assault from Moloch's claws. "You remain in the good graces of fortune." Ichabod mumbled finishing with the first wound. He repeated the same actions on the next wound, this time able to move quicker in cleaning. Half way through cleaning the second slash mark, Ichabod had to toss the gauze he was using away and get another. Again, with the peroxide in hand, he set to the task of finishing what he started. "I should never have allowed you to remain in that place." This was his guilt talking, he knew that, but for him the words needed to be spoken.

"I didn't give you a choice," Abbie replied, finally able to speak normally. The pain in her back, the stinging of the peroxide was something she could partially ignore. "I was tired of being a victim, Moloch's victim." She stopped him, by twisting at the waist to look at him. "He made me afraid, and I hate being afraid." Ichabod gave her a gentle look of understanding before she turned back around to let him continue. "Besides you needed Katrina more than you needed me. She can do magic, she's the one who sealed War in his grave. All I'm good for is snappy one-liners." Abbie joked.

"Don't say that…" Ichabod stopped ministering to her. He leaned close and whispered, "I need you just as much, more now than before actually." Ichabod took a moment to revel in the warmth radiating off of Abbie before leaning back. Now was the time to come clean, to confess all that transpired after he and Katrina departed Purgatory. "I should inform you that… uhh… War is loose upon Sleepy Hollow." The words choked him even as he made his best effort to get them out of his mouth. "He's been here all along."

"What?" Abbie turned around, giving no thought to her back. All she could focus on was the anguish in Ichabod's voice, in his eyes, and in the features of his face. "How is that possible? Henry said…" Then it dawned on her. "Henry set us up didn't he?" Abbie asked resting her hand on Ichabod's knee. From the look in his eyes, there was more he wasn't telling her. "Crane? What else happened?" Ichabod wasn't looking at her.

Ichabod folded his hands in his lap, bowed his head, and gathered his words. He needed a moment to compose himself, to relate the tale of events as best as he could even though he was a mess inside. The weight of her hand upon his knee helped to ground him, to settle his raging emotions. "Henry Parish is the alias used by my son, Jeremy." Ichabod said and then stood up with the intent to pace in front of the fire place. Abbie let him move back and forth while keeping her place on the couch.

"Jeremy?" Abbie asked. "I thought Katrina's coven killed him?"

"They failed." Ichabod growled, not at Abbie, but in general anger. "His blood was strong enough to keep him from the grips of true death, but kept him locked in a box for two hundred years. "

Abbie made sure to stay where she was on the couch. He needed to be left alone to pace, not to be calmed or contained. If he didn't get his anger out, it would fester inside of him like a gaping wound. She knew he had to rage. "What did he do?"

"He gave Katrina to Death," Ichabod spat out the words. At his sides, he had his hands balled into fists. He couldn't believe how helpless he had been to save Katrina, how helpless he had been at quelling his son's rage. How was he expected to save the world when he couldn't have saved his wife, and he still couldn't?

"How did you get her back?" Abbie asked, this time getting off the couch. If he was going to continue to stand, then she would as well. It was then that he turned a sorrowful, defeated gaze on her. "What?"

"I could do nothing to prevent her from being taken. I know not of how she freed herself from Brom. I only knew that I had to get you back, to free you from a realm did not belong in." Ichabod kept his eyes locked with Abbie's. "Jeremy used his powers to seal me inside his grave. I thought…." Words failed him, not allowing him to give voice to his fears, but he had to. He couldn't keep things from Abbie. "I thought I was truly going to die." Tears gathered in his eyes and his bottom lip quivered; the events of the day finally catching up with him. "Katrina was the one to save me… again… And again, I was helpless to do anything, buried in a hole."

Abbie went to him, without care to her injuries, she wrapped her arms around his torso, and held him. Ichabod wasted no time in returning the embrace, but was careful to avoid her half cleaned wounds. Resting her cheek over his heart, Abbie said, "I know this won't help, and its cliché, but, you couldn't have prevented this." She felt Ichabod take a deep breath, his intent to argue, but she continued. "True, had you survived you encounter with Death, you and Katrina would have raised Jeremy under the constant threat of Moloch. There is no guarantee that Jeremy wouldn't have sided with Moloch had you been there. You just don't know. " Then she paused, taking a breath of her own, "But what happened, happened, and you are not to blame." She hugged him tighter, this time, the connection was for her.

"I know I am not to blame, but I still feel at fault." Ichabod whispered. "I am Jeremy's father." He rested his chin atop of Abbie's head drawing from her strength. His arms were resting around her waist where normally they would be across her back, but she was still injured. "I can't believe that he would allow the evil to corrupt him to such an extent. My son…" The tears that had gathered in his eyes began to fall. This was the first time he truly had the luxury to feel the deep well of his immense despair.

Abbie held him tighter still. She couldn't offer any words of comfort. Ichabod just had to go through it. So she stayed, holding him, letting him hold her, until he was ready. Moving her hands a fraction of an inch down, she felt him hiss in pain. Pulling back she asked, "What happened to you?" Her tone was light.

"It may have been when I slammed into that tree…" Ichabod withdrew his arms from Abbie and shed his jacket, draping it across the table. Then, even though Abbie was before him, he untucked his shirt and pulled it over his head. She had let him inspect her back, to begin treating her wounds; he could allow her to do the same for him.

Abbie saw Ichabod's back awash with black and blue bruises forming. The covered his lower back and then trailed up his spine stopping just below his shoulder blades. "How many times were slammed into a tree?" She asked lightly running the tips of her fingers from her right hand over closest section of his bruises.

"Uhh… Twice… I think." Ichabod answered. "Once with Jeremy, then when he put me in his grave, and then the last time when we fled Purgatory. So… three, I guess. Though, I am finding this day rather difficult to process…" He turned around so she would stop inspecting his back, and was unprepared for what happened next. Without saying anything, Abbie touched the scar along his chest that was the testament from the encounter he had with Death. Her touched was light, as light as a feather, and he couldn't believe how it made his skin warm. Sensing that he could touch her in return, Ichabod rested his hands on her shoulders. He didn't discourage her from the further movements of her hand on his chest.

Abbie would never have dared touch Ichabod like this, not before Purgatory tried to trick her. She knew there was something between them, a connection that went way beyond being Witnesses. Abbie drew the tip of her index finger across the pale soft scar of his chest thanking whatever power was listening that Ichabod was with her. In this fight, if he hadn't been here, she wouldn't have gotten this far. Not without Ichabod Crane. She leaned into him, resting her forehead on his chest, over his scar, and just breathed in.

Ichabod brought his hands up and cupped the back of her head, holding her to him. "I'll always be with you Abbie." He assured feeling her warm tears drop to his skin. After a few moments of standing together, Ichabod spoke in a light tone. "Might I suggest we return to the task at hand so that I might finish tending to your wounds?" She pulled back far enough so he could see her deep soulful brown eyes. No words needed to pass between them. He pulled her back to the couch, then resumed his place behind her to finish cleaning her wounds. Ichabod knew they needed time to digest what had happened to them, to heal emotionally. The companionable silence they could share was just what they needed.

**THE END**


End file.
